


Eden

by TJ_Dragonblade



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-20
Updated: 2011-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TJ_Dragonblade/pseuds/TJ_Dragonblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP - Straight-up shot of hard YamaSai porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I needed a hardcore hit of YamaSai porn completely detached from any of the larger stories I'm working on. Set sometime beyond current events. Assumes Yamato survives his stint as Zetsu-battery.  
> Drafted: 5/11/11

Sai is laid out on his stomach, both hands splayed against the sheets, legs spread wide and knees barely drawn up in a position that Yamato is hard-pressed to label anything but 'inviting'. Sai is always quiet, and he never fidgets, but they've been together long enough that Yamato can read the impatience and anticipation in the tense line of his back, the hurried cadence of his breathing, and it only makes Yamato all the more eager himself. He hastens with the condom, rolling it on carefully and oiling it up generously before climbing back onto the bed behind Sai.

"Ready?" he murmurs softly, a courtesy more than anything else--Sai's body is slick and open, well-prepped and waiting, and Yamato positions himself and presses gently but quickly inside without expecting any verbal answer.

Sai shivers and flexes underneath him, the subtle roll of his hips accepting, welcoming, and Yamato draws out and pushes back in again with a languid groan. It feels--nnh, it feels so--

He closes his eyes, thrusts gently, pulls back, pushes deep, grinds a little and does it all over, twice, a third time.

\--So _good_ , always so good--

Sai arches up into it and squeezes around him a bit, and Yamato's breath hitches; he leans down over Sai, near enough to catch the warmth of his skin and the scent of his hair, and lets himself settle easily into the initial tempo that Sai prefers. It's slow for now, and Yamato holds his weight close against Sai as they move, trailing kisses across the back of Sai's neck, biting lightly at the juncture where it meets his shoulder, softly licking up along the rim of his ear and sucking tenderly at the lobe; Sai shivers, tilts his head to accomodate, and his breath escapes him on a sigh of pleasure. Yamato keeps the motion of his hips gentle, fluid, smoothly in and out of Sai's body and Sai arches languidly underneath him, grasping loosely at the sheets and pushing back in clear encouragement to continue.

Gradually Yamato starts to thrust with a bit more force, the way he knows that Sai likes it, adding a slight twist of his hips before drawing back out that makes Sai's breath hitch, just a little. Sai is meeting his thrusts more insistently now, so Yamato raises himself a bit for better leverage and control and begins moving faster, _faster_ , until the quiet slap of skin against skin and the soft creaking of the bed are keeping time with Sai's breaths and the pulse beating _thud thud thud_ in his own ears.

He loses himself for a long moment in the rhythm of hard flesh pumping into slick-willing softness, the tight grip of Sai around him and the upward squirming of Sai's body beneath him that begs for _more, deeper, please_. Sai still isn't very vocal, probably never will be, but by now he's learned how to feel more and express more than he did when they began this relationship, and his subtle feedback is beyond enough for Yamato.

Sai's fingers are curled urgently in the sheets while Yamato takes him swiftly; they relax as Yamato slows down again, then clench tight when Yamato angles to drive into him hard and deep. Sai's skin is hot all over and damp with sweat, even as gooseflesh ripples his arms and back, and he is tense and trembling. His hips move, pushing up in short rolling pulses between Yamato and the bed, making each sharp thrust sweet enough that oh, god, Yamato is just dizzy from it. Sai's head is turned somewhat to the side against the bedding, eyes closed and brow slightly drawn, and Yamato can see the flicker of his eyelids as their bodies move heavily together and the way his full lips part around his rapid panting breaths.

He is beautiful, and Yamato never tires of telling him so.

He braces himself on one arm, slides the other hand over the back of Sai's, laces their fingers together and thrusts deep yet again. "You're beautiful, Sai--so beautiful--" He hears the way his voice wavers, breaks, how sex-drunk and needy he sounds, and he hopes that Sai understands, it's _him_ , only him, always him--

"Yamato--" Sai's voice is soft, breathless and aching as he glances back over his shoulder, and the look he gives Yamato makes Yamato's heart trip in his chest. That look is full of heat and longing and so many things that Sai had not been able to emote in the beginning; his dark gaze smoulders behind the inky wisps of hair feathering into his face, pleading-- _closer, harder, I want--please_ \--and Yamato just isn't inclined to deny him.

He doesn't think he honestly has it in him to deny Sai anything.

He braces both hands, one laced with Sai's and one sunk in the mattress next to Sai's head; plants his knees wide, pushing Sai's legs just that much farther open, and thrusts.

 _Hard_.

Sai's whole body jerks and his breath catches sharply; he buries his face in the sheets and arches his hips up as far as Yamato's weight bearing down on him will allow. " _Yamato_ ," he says again, and it is muffled by the bedclothes but it sounds very nearly like a sob.

Yamato thrusts deep into him again, and again, grits his teeth and puts his head down and pistons his hips with everything that he's got. Sai tenses up, shaking, clutching the sheets and Yamato's interlaced fingers in a deathgrip and breathing hard and fast into the bedding. Sweat mingles on their skin, damp and intimate, hot and somewhat sticky everywhere that they are pressed together; it trickles down Yamato's forehead, running for his eyes and he shakes it away without faltering in his rhythm. He doesn't let up, pushing himself to move faster even as the heated shocks of pleasure swarming into his belly blend and swell one into the next and threaten to overwhelm him, even as the burn of fatigue starts to register in his buttocks and thighs. He's not going to slow, not going to stop; he _can't_ stop, can't come, not until Sai has come first, not until Sai is satisfied--

"Oh--god-- _Sai_ \--" he gasps out, breathless, dizzy, determined--

Sai's head jerks up; his breathing is so rapid and shallow that he's nearly hyperventilating and then it stops altogether and Sai's body convulses, spasms, bears down hard around Yamato within him. Yamato forces himself to pause at the height of a thrust, grinds deep into that clutching, pulsing warmth until Sai's breath returns in a rush and he goes limp, wilting into the mess of the bedding beneath them. Then, only then, does Yamato let himself slip the leash, thrusting and pumping with mindless abandon into Sai's pliant body, chasing the orgasm that's licking like fire at the base of his spine. He spares a glance at Sai's face, once again turned to the side, and the expression there--Sai's eyes are closed, lashes twitching and fluttering each time Yamato drives into him and his mouth is lax, half-open, full lips flushed and moist with the stuttered breaths heaving between them; he looks relaxed, utterly sated, _content_ in a very subtle understated way and _Yamato_ has done this to him--

It hits him then in a rush, surging up in his belly and overflowing, bursting along his nerves in pulses of bright-hot pleasure that strangle his voice in his throat and make his vision go dim around the edges.

He collapses at last, barely managing to pull out as he sprawls artlessly over Sai's back. It's probably uncomfortable for Sai, he realizes, but can't quite manage to move off of him. His face has ended up conveniently near the nape of Sai's neck and he kisses the heated skin beneath Sai's damp hair, over and over and over while he struggles to catch his breath.

Their fingers are still intertwined, on the one side, and Yamato squeezes Sai's hand gently, tenderly; the gesture is ardent, heartfelt, and full of things that he's always been clumsy at conveying in words.

He rolls off of Sai as soon as his body will cooperate, flopping onto his back before he removes and disposes of the condom. Sai is stirring languidly at his side, then, so he turns, and Sai shifts to curl into his embrace. Yamato gathers him in, holds him, presses soft kisses to the top of his head; Sai moves his fingertips in idle, gentle scratching motions through the hair on Yamato's chest, and his breath is warm and even against the damp skin there. Half-formed thoughts flit through Yamato's mind, something to do with concepts of paradise and moments like this, and he presses Sai closer; they need to clean up, still, and the bed is too much of a mess to sleep in, but there's no harm in cuddling this way a bit longer yet.

"Yamato," Sai murmurs into his chest, and the sleepy, sated sound of it melts Yamato somewhere deep inside. He lies cooling in the ruin of the sheets with Sai drowsing in his arms, drifting on the edge of sleep himself, and cannot think of anywhere he'd rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Update Feb 23 2013: Now with [fanart](http://danicat91.deviantart.com/art/YamaSai-355882210) by Danicat91!


End file.
